


Between Three Worlds

by nagi_schwarz



Series: Paint The Sky With Stars [45]
Category: Night World - Fandom, Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Witches, Crossover, Fusion, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-08 01:51:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7738837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the comment_fic prompt: "Stargate Atlantis/Stargate SG-1, Nancy Sheppard + Jack O'Neill, after she helped John get information in 'Outcast' she was approached by Gen. O'Neill with a job offer."</p><p>Nancy and Jack walk a fine line between three worlds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between Three Worlds

Nancy hadn’t known what to think when John showed up at his father’s funeral with that man Ronon in tow. She’d known immediately that he was a shapeshifter, but she hadn’t recognized his name or his tattoos, and he hadn’t appeared to recognize her, the first daughter of the First House. Ronon had been polite enough, mostly interested in the food, and he’d stuck close to John, like some kind of bodyguard. Nancy wondered what John was doing, that he had a shapeshifter as a civilian contractor.   
  
Even though most of the Council had been appalled that John had abandoned his familial duties to take up with the Air Force, the Council had been pleased when Nancy accepted a high-level position at the Pentagon. The Night World wasn’t much interested in meddling in human politics, looking at world events on a much wider scale, but they wanted to know if the humans behind their classified stamps ever learned about the Night World. So far, the answer was no, and Nancy kept plodding along, kept working.  
  
She’d married Grant Abforth, from a respectable witching line, to make up for the dissolution of her ties to the Sheppard family, and she was happy enough.  
  
Less happy, when John came to her, hoping to trade not on her Night World contacts but her human ones. Now that she was a security director at the Pentagon, she understood the burden he’d carried, with his classified missions, and perhaps as an apology for all the times she hadn’t understood, she’d helped him.  
  
She’d figured that would be the last of it.  
  
And then Major General Jack O’Neill knocked on her door.  
  
“Nancy Abforth, yes?” He removed his cover and tucked it under his arm, the gesture automatic.  
  
Nancy had seen John do the same thing a hundred times. “Yes.”  
  
“But formerly Nancy Sheppard.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“And before that, Nancy Drache.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“I heard you did a favor for John Sheppard, while he was in town.”  
  
Nancy pressed her lips into a thin line. No one was supposed to know about that.  
  
“Relax,” O’Neill said. “I’m not here to bust you. In fact, I’m here to thank you and, if you’re interested, offer you a job.”  
  
“A job?”  
  
“You’d keep the one you have now, but you would also do favors for us, like you did for Sheppard.”  
  
“Us?” Nancy asked.  
  
“The Air Force.” O’Neill smiled.  
  
Nancy was sure most people found that smile charming. “I already coordinate with all branches of the military.” She wasn’t most people.  
  
“Not the one that comes out of that one corridor on the D-ring.”  
  
That gave Nancy pause. There was that one corridor in the D-ring, which was officially known as Project Blue Book. No one knew much about it, other than that it got a lot of funding, had a lot of international officials hanging around, and the powers that be took it very seriously.  
  
“I’m afraid I have to decline, General.” Nancy folded her hands on her desk and met his gaze, unflinching.   
  
“That’s a shame,” O’Neill said. “But I appreciate you taking the time to consider my offer. Merry part, Ms. Abforth.” He inclined his head politely and started to turn away.  
  
Nancy came up short. That was the witches’ farewell. He hadn’t opened with ‘unity’, the witches’ greeting. How had he known that?  
  
“General O’Neill,” Nancy said, and she scanned her memory frantically, the knowledge of generations upon generations of family trees crammed into her by childhood tutors. There were no O’Neills among the witches. “Why me? Because I helped John?”  
  
He turned back to her. “Because you helped John, and because you have other traits that I believe would be exceptionally helpful in the defense of our country and our world.” There, he was radiating amusement.  
  
“Other traits?” Nancy echoed.  
  
“My grandmother,” he said. “Her name was Elspeth Harman.”  
  
Grandma Harman’s younger sister. Nancy had heard Elspeth’s great granddaughter had been found, been introduced to Circle Twilight, but she’d heard little of the intervening generations.  
  
“We walk a dangerous line, between three worlds,” O’Neill said. “The more of us, the merrier, don’t you think?”  
  
Nancy swallowed hard. “What do you need me to do?”  
  
O’Neill sank down in the seat opposite her desk. “I thought you’d never ask.”


End file.
